The Hands of Time Read Online Free PDF

around the village. 
    They drove slowly up and down every single street, stopping occasionally to ask passer s by to look at Valerie’s picture and try to remember if they had seen her at any time in the past couple of hours.  A few people actually did recall seeing her walking down the street or sitting at the café by the river , and their statements finally led Louisa and Constable Tomkins to the antique shop.  The store was already closed for the night , but the owner lived right above the premises and came down to speak with them.  He was an old man with thick horn-rimmed glasses , and wispy white hair combed over his balding pate.  He looked frail in his tweed trousers and gr a y cardigan , and Luisa could not find it within herself to be angry with him for not calling the police when he found that Valerie was gone.
    Mr. Taylor looked at the picture for a long time before replying.  “The young lady did come into the shop this afternoon.  It was around 4:00 pm.  I know that because I ’ d just gone into the back room to put the kettle on for my tea.  She w a ndered around looking at various items , and seemed to have left by the time I came back out.  I found her bag lying on the floor next to one of the shelves in the back , and thought she must have dropped it and would come back once she realized it was missing.”  The man looked distraught , and C onstable Tomkins seemed ill at ease questioning him.
    “Mr. Taylor, did you hear anything?  Any signs of a struggle , or an argument of some sort?”
    “No, it was very quiet.  I didn’t even hear the bell over the door when she left.”  He shrugged as if trying to understand how that could have happened.
    “Could someone have forced her to leave by the back way?”  Tomkins was trying, but Louisa knew it was useless.  The man obviously didn’t see or hear anything.   He had been in the back room , and Valerie would have to have gone right past him to leave by the back way.  The questioning was a dead - end.  Could Valerie have been so distraught by Michael’s wedding that she had some sort of breakdown?  It didn’t seem that way.  She ’ d been shopping for souvenirs and there were postcards and a magnet in her bag.  Not exactly symptoms of a person having a nervous breakdown.  The wallet and all her credit cards were untouched, so she hadn’t been mugged or attac k ed.  No one had seen anything suspicious , and if someone forced a woman to leave a shop and get into a car , it wouldn ’ t go unnoticed in a small town full of busybodies who knew the minute details of their neighbors’ lives.  Mrs. Bradford had confirmed that Valerie never came back after she went out before lunch , but went up to check the room just in case.  Nothing. 
    The constable took Louisa back to the pub to get her a cup of tea and go over the evidence, which was practically non- existent .  All they knew was that Valerie Crane had left the inn shortly before lunch and went to the harbor café.  She spen t over an hour there and then w a ndered around town, stopping into various shops until approximately 4pm when she entered the shop of Mr. Frederick Taylor.  Sometime between 4 pm and 4:10 pm when Mr. Taylor emerged from the back, Valerie vanished, leaving her bag and no other clue to her disappearance.  The constable was stumped. 
    “Constable, I ’ d like you to get a detective on the case right away.  Is there one here in the village?”  Louisa asked her hands shaking violently as she tried to pick up the teacup.
    “There ’s no detective here, but I’ ll place a call to Plymouth and they ’ ll send someone down tomorrow.”
    “The trail might grow cold by tomorrow, ” Louisa sighed.  She knew there was no trail. 
    “They will do everything they can, Ms. Jamison.  Why don’t I take you back to the inn and you can try to get some rest , and I ’ ll ring you first thing in the morning after I speak to the detective?”  Louisa had no